Paper Planes
by Moonlit Masterpiece
Summary: Ten years ago, Annie and Auggie were a pair. High school sweethearts, if you will. Then, life happened. Now they're thrown back together again, unexpectedly and haphazardly like an ill-made paper plane. Both of them are on a mission, though not necessarily the same one. Will their past get in the way or will something new crop up between them? Sequel to Bottled Chaos.
1. 1

**A/N: **I'm baaaaack.  
Okay, so it's been two years.  
Once upon a time I was a consistent writer here...  
Then life happened and well...  
I'm back!  
This is the continuation of _Bottled Chaos_.  
It's not necessary that you read that to understand this one.  
Just understand that Annie and Auggie spent their senior year together.  
This is, obviously, AU.  
Okay, so I'm going to shut up and let you read!  
I know, I know.  
It's really short!  
The next chapters will be longer!  
I promise!

**Disclaimer:** I own none of the Covert Affairs characters.

* * *

**1.**

Tentatively, she walks into the local internet café, Beans & Bytes. It's more than she expected, she's nearly overwhelmed by the buzz of dozens of laptops and the orchestra of keys as they find the perfect pitch of tick-a-tack-a, tick-a-tack-a. Her eyes sweep the room. He's not here yet. No matter, he will be. The tail that's been following him for the past two weeks assured her that he keeps to a close schedule. A glance at her watch tells her that she is, in fact, a few minutes early, so she decides to take advantage of the situation.

"Hi, how are you today? Would you like to try one of our blueberry scones?"

"Oh, no thanks, can I just get a caramel coffee, cream and sugar?"

"Of course! It'll be ready at the end for you. Can I get a name?"

"Annie Walker."

Eight minutes later and Annie is relaxed into her plush chair, iPad open, flipping through a magazine that she's been meaning to read for the past two months, and her coffee close at hand. This is about as much of a vacation as she's had in – well, she can't even remember. Still, there's a tightness in her gut, a twitch in her fingers, a nervousness in the back of her mind. Of all the missions she's been on in the past five years and all the assets she's turned, this one is different.

This one comes with a past.

The bell over the door jingles and Annie looks up to see him. God, just as handsome as when they were teenagers and then some. Those butterflies in her stomach reawaken and shake off the dust. But it isn't time for that. This isn't high school. Agent Walker has a job to do.

"Hey, Auggie! How're you doin'?"

"I'm doin' great, Franka. How's my favorite barista?"

Air catches in Annie's throat. Just the sound of his voice has memories flooding back, nostalgia threatening to drown her. Drunken nights at the beach, warm bellies at full houses pulsating with music, quiet moments on rundown playgrounds, good food with friends like family.

"Fantastic. I might actually be getting that flight attendant job I was telling you about."

"I told you that you would. You've got that sparkling personality that every flight needs."

"Oh hush, you're making me blush and blush does not look good on redheads."

"Ah, it's all the same for me."

Annie shakes her head. Same old Auggie.

"Is it the usual again today?"

"You know me so well. Is my table free?"

"Sure is. I'll bring your coffee to you once it's called, yea?"

"Perfect, thank you."

As Auggie, messenger bag slung over his shoulder, moves through the maze of tables to his usual spot, Annie makes her way to the serving counter, poised to strike. Once his name is called, the girl, Franka, moves towards the counter. For a moment, Annie considers the grab-and-run technique but then considers that this might cause some commotion. Low key is what she's going for.

"Do you mind," Annie cuts in politely as Franka reaches for the coffee cup, "Auggie and I are old friends and I'm surprising him. He doesn't know that I'm here."

For a moment, Franka looks confused, looks from Annie to Auggie, and finally smiles again.

"Of course, just let us know if you two need anything else."

"Thank you so much."

Annie takes a deep breath and approaches August Anderson's table.

"Ten years later and you're still drinking your coffee the same. Black."

"It's vanilla nut, I added some excitement."

His voice is unsure, eyes wide as they wander somewhere beside her though his face is turned toward her. Those warm eyes never wandered when they were younger. This is not high school. Anxiety creeps up in her stomach, he doesn't recognize her voice. Has it really been that long? She feels like she would recognize his voice anywhere even twenty years from now.

"Annie Walker."

There it is, her name on his lips, wonderment curling the corners of his mouth.

"Ten years later and you're still wearing the same perfume."

"Impressive."

"Never question a blind man on smell."

"Coffee at your three o'clock."

In one smooth movement, Annie pulls out her chair and settles in, her eyes never leaving his face.

"Tell me, Walker, what're you doing in D.C.?"

"I never left. After I graduated, I started working and – I don't know, I've just been really happy here. How about you? You don't live in D.C., do you?"

"No. No, I don't. I'm actually here on business."

He gives her that disarming smile and she bites her lip, holding her tongue against all of the things that she's wanted to ask him all of these years. That's not why she's here. She needs to keep things on track or the boss is going to ride her ass.

"So," she feels bad, lying to him, deceiving him, "What's this MIT graduate doing for work? Some high profile computer software guru stuff?"

"Something like that," he chuckles and leans back in to the table. "Hey, what do you say we take a walk? Catch up, talk about life, the past, the future, you know?"

It would be best not to discuss confidential matters in a highly populated area. Still, Annie can't help but wonder how Auggie will feel when he finds out that he's being targeted by one of the nation's most elusive offices. How he will feel when he finds out that sweet, sensitive, Barbie doll Annie Walker is a CIA agent.

"I think that sounds perfect."


	2. 2

_**A/N:**_ Ah! I'm so sorry!  
I know that this is a week later than I promised but a lot has been going on and...  
Okay, no excuses.  
It's up now and I hope you enjoy it.  
I wanted to get this up because I was already so late.  
Hopefully the following chapters will stay around the 3k mark.

Seriously, though, guys.  
Your support has me speechless!

Happy Reading!

_**Disclaimer:**_I do not own any of the Covert Affairs characters.

* * *

_**2.**_

August Mica Anderson follows the sound of her heels. Funny, she never really wore heels in high school but judging by her comfortable gait, they're apart of her everyday attire. It's strange how much they've changed. Being around her has thrown him back to the past, to a time when he was a different person. He feels strange because of it, like he's simultaneously living two lives. Only, she has no idea what's happened in the past ten years and he doesn't think she'd be too thrilled about it either.

"So, Annie, you got your degree in linguistics, yes? What is it you do now?"

"I actually work part time for the Smithsonian. Acquisitions."

There's something in the way she says it that raises his suspicions around the same time that he raises his eyebrows. It's too practiced, to informative, and without the air of conversation.

"Really, that sounds interesting. Do you travel a lot?"

"I do. I'm actually headed to Colombia in a few weeks to get some piece of pottery that the museum paid out of its nose to get. What about you? What do you do?"

She's digging. Clearly she's working for someone, someone who wants him or his virus. One thing he knows for sure is that she's not FBI, because if she were he would be in handcuffs already. But then begs the question of who else could it be.

"I'm my own boss, made a name for myself. I have a few guys who work for me."

"Wow, so you own your own business then."

"Basically. I had a job creating programs for a while, writing script for a few companies but it was incredibly boring. After I quit that job I moved on to cyber security and I got pretty far with that but once again it was all about being stuck at a desk. That's when I decided to create something for myself."

"That sounds amazing, Auggie," she touches his shoulder, gives it a gentle squeeze. "It must be nice to be your own boss."

"I mean, it's got its perks but I'm sure it's got nothing on world travel, getting some color on exotic beaches, and attracting all the foreign men with your affinity for speaking their language."

Laughter, laughter that only Annie Walker possesses spills out of her mouth and Auggie remembers fully why his knees went weak when he was in high school, why they still do now. Whoever sent her knew his past, knew that she could get to him.

"Auggie, listen. There's actually something else that I want to talk to you about-"

He stops in his tracks, rests his hands on the grip of his cane, and waits.

"Here it is."

He didn't mean to say it out loud, it slipped out of his mouth before he could stop it.

"What does that mean," Annie huffs. She's standing directly in front of him, waiting for an answer.

"Come on, Annie. I've been going to that café almost daily for the past month and I've never run into you. Then, out of nowhere, here you are."

"No, Auggie I wasn't—"

"Annie, please don't." He regrets what he's about to say before he says it. He pinches his nose, prepares for impact. It seems unfair to say considering their past together but it's the truth nonetheless. "It's been ten years Annie, if we'd wanted to contact each other we would have done so long before now."

The weight of his words is heavy on her. He can tell by her silence. They'd promised each other it wouldn't be like this, that they would still be friends, and in reality they're more distant than they ever dreamed: one the predator, one the prey, though it's still unclear who takes what role.

"You're right. Absolutely," she takes a deep breath, "My employer wants to make a deal with you. Regarding a virus they believe you wish to sell to someone else."

"And when you say your employer, I'm guessing you're not referring to the Smithsonian."

"You guess correctly."

He takes a deep breath and squeezes his eyes shut. In the back of his mind, he knew this would happen, everything was going too smoothly. At least it wasn't the family that sent her. They've been looking for him, of that he is well aware. On the off chance that his mother gets in contact with him, she asks if he still speaks to Annie. Ten years later and the woman still thinks they should be together. Clearly she's wrong.

"Listen, Auggie. This really would be best for you. We can offer you protection from both the FBI and the people you're currently working with."

Irritation tingles just beneath his skin. She's known all about him this whole time and yet she asked all of those questions, pretended that they were just friends catching up. Damn. It feels like he's being betrayed by both his high school sweetheart and a complete stranger.

"Right. It's been great catching up, Miss Walker, but I'm not interested."

He turns and extends his cane, quickly walking back toward the café. From there he knows how to get to the hotel, from this location, not so much. He gets a few steps away when Annie's heels start clacking towards him and eventually his cane finds her shoe. Just like old times.

"Auggie, wait. I know you're upset, I know that you probably feel like I've lied to you but I haven't. I really do work for the Smithsonian on occasion and I really graduated from Georgetown. I'm still the girl from high school."

"That's great, Annie. But I'm not the boy from high school."

Once again he tries to get away and once again she steps in his path. This is starting to feel like manipulation and it's only making him more upset.

"Just take my card. Please."

She puts it in his hand. He runs his thumb over it and is surprised to find her name and number in braille. Most people don't take his disability into consideration. It softens him, if only a little.

"Look, Annie. I've had agency after agency take advantage of me. I'm not going to let that happen again. Even if it means getting locked up for what I believe in."

"That's the thing, Auggie. We believe in what you can do. At least consider my offer."

"I'll consider it. But I'm making no promises."

"Good."

After a touch to his shoulder, she finally steps out of his way, her footsteps retreating behind him until they blend into the crowd and all the while Auggie is left wondering:

Who is this new Anne Catherine Walker?

oOo

When Annie gets home, she collapses into her couch and tries to stave off the feeling of defeat that turns her stomach. It only took Auggie ten minutes before he made her; she was going to talk about what happened when they were younger, about their romance, about what happened with their friends but he jumped right in, saw right through her. And he was so cold with her when he figured out what she wanted from him but there was something else there, too, something that made her feel so much worse. Disappointment. He was disappointed that the only reason she made contact with him was for a job, and honestly, she's pretty damn disappointed in herself, too.

College is such a selfish time. Everyone is trying to figure out who they are, what they want, and how they're going to get it in the pursuit of happiness while all along they're losing what could truly make them happy. And it's sad because most don't even realize it until they've gotten where they thought they wanted to be.

Joan made a mistake. She shouldn't have sent Annie on this mission; there are too many factors, too many emotions on both sides of the spectrum. With a sigh, Annie decides that in the morning she will ask Joan to remove her from the mission and insert someone else, maybe even to take the virus covertly or at least keep the trade from happening.

It's the only thing she can do at this point that will do any good.

oOo

Something isn't right in his hotel room, Auggie can feel it.

He listens carefully as he puts his messenger bag on the counter by the door, along with his room key, and folds up his cane. He doesn't set his cane down, though. If anything he can use it as somewhat of a weapon should someone attack him. There it is, the smell of dark cologne and cigars lingers lightly in the stale air.

"Mr. Anderson."

The man is sitting at the desk at the far side of the room. Auggie looks toward it and hopes that he isn't wearing fear on his face. Not a good look when speaking to a relatively dangerous employer. But this is the game that he's playing.

"Vadim. I wasn't expecting you."

"Yes, well. You have not been answering my calls. So I was worried that something may have happened to you. I like to know that the important people in my life are doing well. Glad to see you're okay."

"I'm so glad your thoughts have been with me, however, a little warning next time would be great."

"Why have you not answered me?"

"I told you already, I will call you when the virus is ready. It's still unstable. I have some work that I need to do before I'm comfortable with handing over the product."

There's a moment of silence and Auggie is almost positive that he hears movement beside him, a rustle of clothing maybe, a sleeve brushing against a hip. Vadim hasn't come here alone. He's sure of it.

"You have three days, Mr. Anderson. Or it won't just be the product that we take back with us. Our employer has no qualms with having you do the job directly, instead of this elusive product that you keep promising."

"Right," Auggie puts on his best smile, "Well, you can tell our employer that he will have his product in three days but if he wants it on time, he needs to stop sending his goons out to threaten me."

Before he can react, Auggie finds himself pressed up against a wall, a thick forearm pushing harshly on his windpipe. He could fight back, he should, he wants to but he knows that if he does another goon will be on him in moments and he would lose that fight. With every ounce of willpower that he has, Auggie shuts down his instinct to defend himself and concentrates instead on getting what little oxygen that he can to his brain.

There are footsteps and he can feel someone's face hovering close to his. Probably Vadim's.

"Listen, Anderson. This is not a game. You hold up your end of the bargain or you will pay dearly. I will see you in three days."

The smell of cologne and cigars fades away, the hotel room door opens, and finally the big guy holding him lets him fall to the ground. He gasps for air, grasping his throat. Every breath burns but he'll survive. He's made it through worse.

Once the hotel room door is closed and he's sure that no one is in his room, Auggie pulls his cellphone out of his pocket and toys with it. They are taking this too far and this employer is starting to seem less trustworthy by the minute. Still, he made a deal and going back on that would not only be detrimental to his health but to his name. That just won't do.

He's torn. If he makes this call he could lose his reputation altogether but at least he would be safe. Hell, maybe he could even conduct work still, just dealing with legal scumbags instead of illegal ones. Maybe. He still doesn't know the whole truth on that front either. Still, there's no harm in talking. After all, the best businessman always weighs all of his options.

Auggie picks up his phone and retrieves the business card from his pocket. It rings once, twice, three times before an eager voice picks up on the other end.

"Hey Annie, it's Auggie… I'm ready to hear what you have to say."

* * *

**_A/N:_ **Alright, so it's still shorter than my norm.  
But what did you think, huh?!  
So many secrets that they're keeping and Auggie still doesn't know who Annie works for!  
Gosh.  
I'm really excited for these next chapters.  
But enough of my chatter, I want to hear from you guys!


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